The Masquerade Misshap

Chapter Five| Jacquelyn

I closed the door, softer this time. I let out a breath as the lock clicked and I leaned against the door. I tilted my head up on it and closed my eyes, running through the day. First, I got ready for the ball. Then, I came to the ball, got harassed by nobles, then different nobles were nice to me. After, I tried to make my escape, failed, and was locked up by my mate. Staying in that damned room for two hours was enough to let me realise never to send the wrong signals to him. Xander. Just thinking on the name sent chills down my spine. And most definitely not the bad kind.

He finally came, with obvious force, and we talked, working something out. He lead me to his parents where I revived a bone-crushing hug from the queen, and nearly had a panic attack when I realised my family was not notified of my sudden stay. Finally, I got a room, and now here I am.

I pushed myself off of that door and walked to the door that Xander said held the bathroom. I peaked in hesitantly, only to find it full of my favourite sent; lavender. I sighed, grinning, and skipped into the master bath. I carefully stripped out of my dress, finding a couple hangers on a rack my the mirror. I hung it there, then grabbed a towel from the basket on the toilet head attached to the triangular corner, and walked to the shower that was connected to a jacuzzi bath. I hung the towel on the rack beside the shower and turned around to face the mirror. I gave myself a thin, fake smile and looked upon my petite body, that had absolutely no curves like the 'pastel girls'. They filled every curve of their dresses perfectly. I was only bones and skin.

I stopped my pity party and jumped in the shower. I turned it on warm and sighed as the warmth hit my face. It had been a while since I got the first, warmest bath. I washed my body, hair, and face, rinsing quickly. I got out and dried myself off with the towel, then wrapping it in my hair. I walked out in my full 'glory' and grabbed a pair of underwear from the drawer he pointed out. A knock sounded from the door as I was pulling my leg through the first hole, and the clicks of a handle turning came soon after. I panicked and dove behind the bed, hoping the innocent person didn't see anything. "Jacquelyn? Are you in here?" The voice sent shivers through my spine. I bent on my knees and wrapped the towel sloppily around myself. "Yeah! Right here!" I said, breathless. I made sure it was secure as his eyes widened, as well as darkened.

Ohh no.

I ran to the bathroom after grabbing up some clothes and shrugged them on. I looked in the mirror to see that I was not in a dress, but spank-like shorts and a flowing top. I gasp, wincing. This wasn't that much better.

Banging on the door brought me back to the present and I opened the door just as that fist came down. I quickly grabbed it and ducked. The lustful face in front of me quickly turned to a guilty one. "I am so, so sorry!" He kept repeating, trying to make it better. I bust out laughing, but quickly stopped, slapping a hand over my mouth. I hated my laugh. He frowned and I removed my hand slowly. His eyes wandered slowly from my face to my torso and bear, exposed legs. I gasp again and tried to shut the door, only to have it stopped by a strong hand and and my breath hitched.

"You. Are. Mine." My breath hitched with every word; shivers spreading all over my back. He growled again and came closer. I backed a step away for every one that came closer. My back hit the wall and I couldn't help but think on how cliché this was. He leaned in but I turned my head and whispered, "Not yet." I was shaking as his hand came up and turned my face gently towards him. I looked him in the eyes and saw guilt, pain, confusion, and lust. I slid down the wall and put my head in my hands, taking in a quivering breath.

He kneeled down beside me and I drew another shaky breath, while he held me in his hands. Everything I felt that day came bubbling up to the surface again, causing me to breakdown. He folded me into his chest and I lay there, tears streaming from my eyes, although not as convulsive as other attacks.